Induced Coma
by the missing x
Summary: There are no superheroes in the world they are living in, no one to save them, and most of all they never became the heroes they were destined to be. They don't remember their double lives or each other. When they uncover the truth they must uncover their abilities to escape the mindscape they have been put in. Before they are put in a permanent Induced Coma.
1. Prologue I

Kaldur 'Ahm is one of the best swimmers in the United States of America. From breaking records to setting higher ones, he had done it all. For most he looked like a normal teenage athlete, tall, muscular, but what not many people knew that he was an orphan.

Not that he had no parents, because he had been taken in by Arthur Curry, how had since become his coach as well, he had no true idea who his parents were, no name, no photo, no memories. So he went about everyday life accepting and forgetting that he knew nothing about his family history.

But often when he found himself in doubt he turned to the small hope that his biological father and mother were out there in the world, living a happy life, and having a happy environment. Because as he's grown up his own values are set in stone, true happiness is something that doesn't belong to you personally- but is pure bliss from looking towards your heart.

He had great friends at his school; his best friends were Tula and Garth. Both excellent in the water as well, but for different reasons to him. Tula was in the synchronised swimming team and Garth was a water polo player. And in their spare times out of their hectic schedule they found time to be surrounded by more water, often hanging out at the beach.

But soon their three had separated into one and two. Tula and Garth starting a relationship and often leaving him to feel like the third wheel when they spend anytime together. Kaldur would never admit it to their faces though, because he was too kind hearted for that, with a heart of gold and eyes of silver he was the centre of many girls' attention.

None of them had caught his eye though, once setting hopes on Tula. But those were easily diminished as Garth had lay claim to her heart. But he knew that he would be fine, after all, he had been doing fine for all his life.

And he was in his heaven right now. In the pool, water rushing up and down his arms at he pulls with the muscles he has, moving his head to the side for a breath before pushing it back down to look at the bottom of the floor.

He turns and pushes of the wall at a speed faster than Michael Phelps and his arms move again, his mantra in his head letting him focus and keep going. This was for a personal best, which for him, meant breaking his own records.

His fingers hit the end wall and his head surfaces, gasping for breath and shaking his head slightly. The ringing in his ears hasn't stopped, but he doesn't mind, it sounds like a crowd somewhere was cheering for him, and he loved the cheer. The energy, the hype, the nerves that accompanied every single race he competed in.

"That was excellent, Kaldur." Arthur praised, lending a helping hand to Kaldur who tore his goggles off and exited the pool His chest rising and lowering in attempt to get the oxygen flowing through his body again. "A little shaky on the dive, but other than that it's a new PB, you should be proud of yourself."

"Thank you, Arthur." Kaldur panted, drying his face off with the poolside towel. "It is something I have been working towards and I am glad that I have finally completed my goal." Arthur just smiled and wiped the writing off the board. "Dinner will be early tonight, I believe Mera has called and asked us to present ourselves nicely, there will be guests."

Kaldur sighed, "Is this another potential business partner?" He knew what Arthur and Mera ran was close to a kingdom, but he also knew that within the house he had certain responsibilities he couldn't turn away from, like meeting with the potential new partners of his company.

"It is, but I promise it will not be as bad as the last incident. They've even got a daughter, around about your age." Arthur smiled, placing a fatherly hand on his shoulders.

"If you say so." Kaldur smiled, "I'm hitting the showers, I'll be home before six."

...

He walks across the busy road with a clutter of papers in his hands. School bag lazily slung over his shoulders and his worn out sneakers baring the most of his rushed walk to school. Once again, he was nearly late for school.

Among the students he had earned a reputation as the time broker. Because no matter what he would be late. Which is why his track coach often told him a time one hour prior to the event, just so that he could arrive on time- but of course he didn't know that.

Picking up his speed he clumsily walked into a pedestrian, spilling coffee all over his notes. Not bothering to say sorry, because really- his notes had been ruined, he grumbled and kept walking, going to get t school before the bell and then see what he could salvage from his brown and wet notes.

Turning into the school he shuffled through the crowd of seniors, who had later starting times, to get to his homeroom. Tripping over his undone shoelace he crashed into the door, successfully opening it, but unsuccessfully saving his notes. Splayed across the room, he gingerly got up and smiled in apology to the teacher who just glowered at him with unnecessary hate.

Picking up pages of his notes on by one he piled them up into his arms once more and took the spare seat at the back of the class, sinking further down into his chair as the teacher continued to glower at him.

"Mr West." The old lady clipped, her lips pushing together into a tight line, "How do you explain this time how you are nearly twenty minutes late to school?" The class al turned to look at Wally, some with looks of sympathy and some with humoured smirks.

"Um, traffic?" He shrugged, still shuffling his papers on the desk, trying to arrange them into some sort of neat pile. Not succeeding and only further damaging the sheets, Wally looked up with puppy dog eyes and a sorry smile.

The shrewd teacher sighed and rolled her eyes, "Another detention after school, Mr West. Remember, one more and your suspended from the track team for a month." Wally opened his mouth to protest- they had a regional meet next week- he couldn't miss that. His arch-rival was going to be there, and no way was he going to be missing a chance to deflate Hamish McCormish's ego.

Thinking better of it he just got up and snatched the pink detention slip with his name written on it in cursive lettering. Groaning and falling back onto his chair, he waited for her to continue the lesson. He tried to ignore the constant aching in his belly, but alas, he could do nothing about the monster inside of him.

When he gets to practice Jay Garrick is waiting for him. "Wally, m'boy." The old man greets, patting the red head on the back. "Word is that you were late today, again." Jay raised his eyebrows and smiled cheekily.

Which was one of the many reasons Wally liked jay, not only was he a family friend, but he had a great sense of humour. One that most people his age wouldn't have kept, for it was far too 'immature' for him to have. But Wally didn't mind, in fact, Jay had been rubbing off on him.

"Twenty minutes." Wally smiled, "Next detention and I'll be out for a month."

"A month?" Jay nearly screams, "We've got that meet next week and I'm not losing to the Hammock boy." Wally cracks up, because he knows Jay knows Hamish's name, this was just his way of making things lighter.

"Are we going to train, old man, or are we just going to gossip like Joan?" Wally grinned back, referring to Jay's wife Joan, who was equally as good natured and fun loving as Jay was- if not more. She often supported him at his meets when his parents were too swamped with work or it was a meet close by.

"For that I'll let you run until you drop, twelve laps warm up." Jay smiled, blowing his whistle as Wally speed down the track, envisioning winning another title and being on top of that podium.

When Wally gets home he can smell the chicken in the oven and hear the television on the news, his Aunt's voice sounding from the speakers. "Smells good, mum." He calls, stealing a chip from the bowl as his mum quickly tries to swat his hand away.

"Hey dad." Wally says, sitting next to him on the couch. "Work okay?"

"Works great, squirt. Jay says that you were late again today." Rudy smiles, "What happened this time, Wally?" And Wall feigns hurt because really, since when was it his fault that he was late. Rudy just smiles and turns back to the screen, where his sister is reporting about a United Nations meeting.

Wally West loved his family; he loved the food, his parents, his room and most of all he loved being able to be who he was.

Wally West, science genius and star track runner for Keystone High.

...

She knew things were dark, they were made like that. She knew that if you were too down guarded the world would kick you hard and fast on the ass before you could say 'change'.

She had always known she was different to other girls. She wasn't mean, she didn't like going behind people's backs…much. She knew when she was hurting someone's feelings. And she knew when she herself was being alienated.

She had friends, sure… but her friends weren't friends.

Being part of the cliché clique of the 'populars' was more down than up. The school looked to you, the teachers looked to you, the parents knew you and you had to immerse yourself in the self-righteous Barbies that hosted Happy Harbor High School.

Okay so maybe she had lost herself getting to this point, but the only part she had lost was her natural pale complexion, swapped out for a more, artificial, tan colour. She had her haircut to just below the shoulder and her 'signature' look has always, and will always be her tight fitting cardigan. Something her mother had given her before she was cruel taken away on a raid in her town.

She had been taken in by her Uncle John, a kind hearted soul who had taught her nothing but acceptance and love, because he was the only family she had left, and vise versa. He had lost his wife and child in a car accident that involved a drunk driver, causing him to drop to the lowest point in his life.

She had witnessed her uncle go from happy to depressed, holing himself in his house for days on end and only coming out when he was called to work and called by her mum when she felt like he needed to be cared for.

Megan had been exposed to the blade of reality at such an early age, losing her cousin and aunt when she was five, and her mother when she was seven. Something that she rarely talked about.

_"NO!"_

She hated the nightmares that plagued her sleep when she thought about it, the screaming, the blood, the night, and then a hooded man. There had always been that hooded man. The one that had pulled the trigger and severed her only tie to herself.

She had lost everything and nothing that day.

_"Shut up and don't you dare tell anyone! Or I swear I will hunt you down and finish you the way your mummy died."_

Her trust in other human beings…

_"Help! Somebody help!"_

Her tears…

_"No, mum… No…NO!"_

Her innocence her sweetness…

_"You're too sweet, Megan."_

She hated all the lies she had to put up with, all of the secrecy.

_"Megan, I love how you are so nice."_

Whenever someone talked about her niceness, she could almost guarantee it was a jab to the fact that yes, she was naïve. But not only did she know about it, she exploited the fact they thought she couldn't think for herself and maybe she got off of things that she really shouldn't be doing, but they started it.

That's how girl world works.

And in girl world she had to learn how to protect her heart, and fast.

She had to learn how to manipulate the people around her.

She had to learn how to act innocent and unknowing.

She had to act like the first seven years of her life had never happened.

The worst part was that she wished she was that innocent.

She wish she could be unknowing.

She wished with all her soul that she could openly tell people that she had been in a tough situation, that she could stop publicly ignoring the seven years of a rocket launch into reality. She wished on the shooting stars that crossed the sky that she had a place out in the world that was better than her place in the school.

Even though she knew that her deepest desires were nothing short of near impossible she wished, every night at elven minutes past eleven she would sit by her window, looking out on the stars that floated around blissfully and wished.

She wished that in the future she would find proper friends, proper people and finally be able to be herself and nothing but.


	2. Prologue II

Dick Grayson.

A fourteen-year-old acrobat, one of the five members of the Flying Graysons.

A world class act that travelled with Haly's International Travelling Circus.

He and his family were the highlight event of the show and they performed some of the most dangerous acts on the trapeze, all with no net.

Hours and hours were spent into rehearsing the routines and tricks that ultimately moulded the finishing performances that shaped the reputation the act has.

The trailer rolled around roughly, shuddering to a stop as they reached the site they would be staying at for a month- due to high demands and Haly's personal connection to the city. Dick groaned as his head hit the top of his bed, and rubbed his mop of hair gingerly.

"Dick?" his mother's voice called, "Dick, you have to help unload the trailer, we're here."

"No, mum… still tired." Dick tried to get away from the noise and turned his head into the pillow. And suddenly the blanket was pulled off his body and a cold shiver ran up his spine. "Mum." He whined, curling his body up into a ball.

"Richard Grayson." Oh no, she was serious, "If you don't get your lazy behind out of that bed by the time we head down to the equipment trailer you won't be performing the finale." That got him up, no way was he missing a chance to perform the finale. The biggest trick the Grayson's had was something they were famous for, it's what out them on the map in the first place. And to hell if he had to get up now, he was not missing out.

"I'm up, I'm up." Dick said, shooting upright and jumping out of bed. Mary just chuckled and walked out telling him to get dressed first. Groaning and throwing on a t-shirt and leaving his sweatpants on he stumbled out to the kitchen where he was greeted with the smell of bacon and eggs.

"Morning, son." John Grayson greeted, passing Dick and ruffling his son's hair. Dick scowled mockingly and brushed his hair back down, ignoring the laughs his parents had let out. "I hope your ready for school today because the tutor's coming down in an hour."

Dick's fork dropped, "School?"

"School." John replied, taking another sip of his hot beverage. "And don't pester the tutor about English this time, we're going to be here a while and I don't want to have to get more than one tutor for you."

"No promises, it's not my problem they are not whelmed." Dick grumbled, taking a mouthful of scrambled eggs into his mouth. Chewing slowly as his parents just laughed and continued talking to one another.

It was great. His cousin would be coming over soon, he always did, and they would go feed the animals before he had to sit down and learn. He hated his tutors; none of them seemed to understand that he got the basic stuff. He was sat down in a chair for three hours solving stupid algebra questions.

His parents really had no idea how he had become so intelligent, but they took it as a blessing and worked with the tutors to try and get Dick more mind appropriate work sheets to do. But the tutors that walked in and out of their circus had the same mind set that because he wasn't learning all the time he was falling behind in his year age studies.

One day he had a break through with a tutor, who finally saw the budding flower and allowed it to grow, giving Dick a laptop connected to a portable Wi-Fi spot he taught Dick how to use the block device. And through his own capabilities he figured out how to hack into the security system of the circus, gleefully watching everyone sound asleep as his prank was initiated, sending confetti out of the human cannons and causing the animals to cry out in fright.

Of course he had gotten in trouble for it, but he was let off after he told his parents how he figured out how to hack into different places by himself… no parent could not be not proud at that achievement. So he was allowed to perform the grand finale with his family that night, but he was one his last strike- one more and he would be cleaning after the elephants for a month.

Dick knew his place in the world.

He knew who he was.

What he was.

And who he would be.

He was Richard Grayson.

Acrobat extraordinaire.

* * *

><p>Conner Kent was many things, he was quite, brooding, tempered, ignored and most importantly <em>not <em>his father.

Conner had an odd relationship with the man who have him life, he had idolized the man, wanting to be like him, do something realistic and helpful in the world. But when he was dumped with Clark Kent he quickly learned not to expect much.

His mother had told him that it was a high school fling, and that he had no idea about him. So when she got ill she wrote in her will for him to live with his father. Then three days later she passed away, they didn't find out what the illness was, just that it was fast, dangerous and not contagious.

He had been ignored by his biological father, who claimed he was too busy at work. Thankfully, his girlfriend was extremely nice and didn't ignore him, often going out to the supermarket or to watch his games. Lois Lane was some one he decided to trust, and his trust wasn't easily earned.

At school he was doing okay, he was an average student and his grades were consistent. He had a group of friends, Mal Duncan, his mate from the football team, Marvin, a weird geek who just crawled his way into their hearts and other people he couldn't, or hadn't bothered to, remember.

Conner didn't talk much either, just grunts and nods normally was the reply to anything anyone said to him. No one ever expected more, except on the field- but that was a given. He didn't normally spurt out long sentences out the history of China, although he did know.

Truthfully Conner liked school, he especially liked history. But the problem was that he knew nearly everything that mankind knew about their time on earth, he didn't know how because they had never studied it in school- but he did.

He was officially known throughout the school as Superboy- a nickname that generated from his father because, like him, he was one of the key players in the Metropolis High School football team. Everyone around the state knew him, he had been hunted down by some colleges and because he was still a good two years in high school they kept tabs on him.

Kind of creepy, but kind of cool- to know someone was taking interest in him.

There were three things that his dad did: Work, Eat and Sleep.

Three things that went around in a cycle of never ending boringness. And Conner hated it. He hated that Clark Kent, journalist extraordinaire, made no time for his own son. The only word that could come to mind when thinking of his father now was douche.

"Conner?" Mal asked, waving his hand over his face.

"What, Mal?" Conner said boredly, picking at his food- which honestly could look a lot worse.

"I was just asking if you were coming to training tonight, it's a extra practice for the newbies on the team." Mal asked, taking a bit out of his sandwich, which he had smartly brought on home. Conner grunted, "I'm taking that a yes?"

"Sure, I've got nothing better to do." Conner shrugged. Clark wouldn't be worrying about him and he could just text Lois about staying late at school. He didn't think they'd think much of it anyway, the office makes both of them work longer hours.

"Great," Mal grinned, "I wasn't sure if you were going because Coach Smith adores you, and I'm sure he'd left you off the hook for not showing to a newbie practice. Besides, everyone knows you don't need to study for midterms- you're like a walking textbook."

"Yeah- funny." Conner rolled his eyes.

"Hey, you're mum coming to watch the game on Saturday?" Marvin asked, knowing that Lois held an important position within the Daily Planet. Conner just shook his head, not bothering to retort and put it straight once again, that Lois wasn't his mother.

"Your dad?" Marvin pestered on. Not realising the depths he had just went to. Mal and Conner glared at him with protective fierceness and he immediately shied away from the dangerous glares. "Sorry."

Conner just shook his head and played with his food again. maybe one day his dad would accept him, and then he would really be happy...

* * *

><p>Her body was screaming at her, the deep gash in her leg burning, but she pushed all the injures she had counted to the back of her mind. She was fighting against a tougher, stronger, older opponent someone that she didn't know if she could kill, but obviously the feeling wasn't returned.<p>

But she would go down fighting, Artemis Crock was no coward, till death do us part.

A kick, a punch, a jab, a roll. The routine perfectly embedded into her mind, literally tattooed into the side of her brain. She knew it back to front, front to back, middle to outer, but no matter how many times she practiced her opponent knew it better.

Jade, a natural prodigy, she had no problem with continuing the family business, she just didn't like dad. But she stuck around, for Artemis' sake. But Artemis knew she was going to leave any day now. Sadly that day came sooner than later.

When she was nine and her mother had just been put in a wheelchair and a jail cell, Jade had quickly gotten angry with dad. Their ideas on how to raise Artemis clashing and resulting in another broken window or table in the apartment.

Then, she packed and left.

Artemis hasn't seen or heard from her since.

One of her last words to her sticking in her mind, _'In this family, it's every girl for herself…'_

She had tried on so many different levels to prove her wrong, that their family was stronger than them on their own. But she had failed to prove it, even to herself. She knew that Jade was right, it was every girl for herself, her mum was still in prison and Jade obviously not coming back, she only had her dad.

Sportsmaster. A trained hit man married to Huntress, a trained since birth assassin. His daughter, Jade, was a martial arts enthusiast. She knew Jade, and no matter how many times Jade said she could hide her emotions, Artemis knew when Jade was enjoying herself and when she was doing it to take the workload off of her younger sister.

She was glad that at sixteen she hadn't been dragged to one of her dad's missions. Because all she knew was that when ever he came home from one he stuck like blood. And that was something she didn't want on her hands.

Artemis had been taught at school about Human Rights. She knew in her mind she had rights, but her mouth and her brain seemed to have a scratchy connection, sometimes she found it so hard to say what she wanted, to express her feelings without fear of punishment.

Maybe that sense of completion and proud completion would come, and only come, when she left like Jade. Disappeared without a trace and never look back, she would love to be free- travel the country. But then came the hard parts. She wasn't very god at keeping a low profile, and she also didn't have a car or license.

She was more sympathetic than her mother, father and sister combined. She had a heart that she didn't want to taint with cold blood, or warm or hot blood for that matter. Artemis knew she was going to get out of this. She would be the one to break the chain of criminals her family had produced, and she would be proud.

Yet here she was, at five o'clock in the morning, getting up to train.

Clad in yoga pants and a tank top she made her way out to the top of the roof. Where her father would, no doubt, reprimand her for being late and lazy. Again.

Sure enough Lawrence Crock was standing tall, arms crossed and eyes narrowed on top of the stairwell. He gave her one look and she knew that this training was going to be hard- harder.

"Your late, baby girl." He sneered, she glared back. Artemis hated the nickname baby girl, it was so stupid and other parents had used it in a loving and kind way- not to make their daughters feel smaller.

"I know." Artemis gritted between her teeth, griping her bow tighter, her knuckles turning white. She could almost see the white-hot pain she was trying to inflict on her dad, but sadly she couldn't because she didn't have the ability to.

"Let's get started."

And she knew that going to school this morning would be harder than walking through a brick wall.

* * *

><p>That day still haunts her- it was the day she lost a dear friend.<p>

She remembers snippets, she had taught herself to block ugly memories from resurfacing, but the screaming was what she couldn't escape- could _never_ escape.

It was the shrill cry of her friend when she knocked down the bathroom door and finally understood why she had taken so long in there.

_"Get out of here!"_

She remembers vividly the events that unfolded after that, she screamed at her to stop- stop killing herself.

She remembers the profound cursing that the girl had spat at her.

She remembers the emotions controlling her actions as she tried to stop her friend from making a mistake that she would regret.

_"What are you doing?"_

_"I don't have to tell you anything, go away!"_

_"You're killing yourself! Don't do this!"_

_"Watch me."_

She remembers darting forward and trying to take that damned bottle of pills out of her hands.

She remembers her crying while they fought.

_"Stop fighting me, I need this. _Please._ I need this."_

She remembers the shattering of the square mirror hanging over the sink. The scream of terror that escaped her own mouth, her throat hoarse from shouting at her to stop.

_"Zatanna!"_

Then her friend dropped like a rock when she had thrown herself against the sink, her head hitting the corner of the basin with such force that it left a deep gash in her forehead.

_"Help! Someone! Anyone! Help!"_

After that everything became blurry and unwanted- she didn't want to remember because that's where she lost a friend, her only friend.

She vaguely remembers calling an ambulance, and telling the sisters what had happened. She also remembers the paramedics breaking in and rushing her into the ambulance, she tried to follow- but only family were allowed on board.

_"Let me on! She's my friend, she has to be okay!"_

_"Miss, only family are permitted in the ambulance. You will have to stay here."_

To which she retorted was stupid because where they live, they don't have family, yet they still allowed Sister Esther aboard because she is one of the legal guardians.

It had been days now, and she had gotten word from the sisters that they had to move her to an institution, somewhere where the looney's were kept and looked after because they were a menace to society.

_"She's being kept at the institution. It's for the best, she'll be safe there."_

That was the last she had heard about her friend.

The whole house had been told and mourned her as if she had died- she clearly hadn't. The young girls hollered like they were set alight, everyone had loved her- she was a diamond in the ruff. A personality to match her beautiful face, a smile that could make you laugh without making a sound, and a mischievousness about her that often got her in trouble with the sisters- but she was always forgiven quickly.

It was how they had immortalised her in a painting the children spent on every afternoon after lunch. Because that's the time they lost her to the cruel world, after lunch on the third day of the week- exactly five years to date.

The children weren't children anymore; they had given up their innocence and stopped painting the painting. All that was left of her friend now was her room- rumours had travelled around the orphanage fast that her room had been haunted by the previous owner, and the spirit drove her insane enough to attempt to take her own life.

_"To this day, the spirit of Kirwan haunts her old room, if you go anywhere near it- she'll latch onto you and drive you crazy."_

_"That's a lie! Your just trying to scare us."_

_"Oh? Then do you know the story of Zatanna?"_

_"No."_

_"That was her old room, Kirwan's room, the spirit haunted her- drove her crazy. Three years ago, Zatanna tried to take her own life. No one knows where she is, she was taken by the institution and never heard of again."_

She thought the rumours were frivolous, but the new kids seemed to believe in the story- they didn't dare go within a ten-foot radius of her room.

The only people that entered it now were the sisters, just because they cleaned it up to stop everything from being covered in dust. It was kind of creepy; it was like a personal shrine to her. Like she was a god in this house, her spirit 'forever lived among us'.

God, sometimes she thinks that the people that look after them at the orphanage think she's well and truly dead. It's unnerving because everyone knows she still alive; they just don't know where she could be.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Okay! So this is my newest story line up, and I would really appreciate it if I got some reviews just to see what people like, dislike, would like to see... So I can incorporate it into the story, with my own limits of course. Yeah, so please leave a review, it would be really greatly appreciated. **


	3. Chapter 1

She knew that she was real. She could _feel _it. She knew that her hair was real. She knew that her eyes were real. She knew that she was real. She knew that everything else wasn't.

She would remember every night, through a passage of dreams and nightmares, recollecting memories of her life.

One that wasn't here.

They didn't believe her. They never did. They told her that she had a mental disorder. They told her to be polite to the other kids here because they were fragile, just like she was.

It angered her.

So much that she tried to find a way out of this fake existence. Her first attempt had been when she was young, still living with other normal children. Her second: a week after that. Her third: a week after the second. She kept trying, but more subtly. Last year she had gotten close to getting out. But a schizophrenic kid found her and called, like she had been taught.

Nothing had gone right for her since then; her dreams were slowly becoming nothing more than dreams, her nightmares becoming nothing more than a hole of fear and uncertainty. There were talks around the ward, had been for weeks, one family from the Haly's Circus would be volunteering over Christmas.

That meant the whole world for the other children, but for her it meant nothing more than watching another family that wasn't real _act_ real. She didn't like it one bit. She would have thought there would be more people like her, real, but she had been left to fall out of the sky and fend for herself.

"Zatanna."

She rolled her eyes and turned back to watching the snow fall outside. Leaning her head against the window and curling her legs up to her chest, she breathed out, blowing her loose raven locks out of her way.

The nurses didn't really care about you here. It was Gotham. How did she end up in Gotham? Her home was New York. They didn't have space for her, and no other city wanted a scarred for life child in their care, so they shipped her off to the only place that had to.

"Zatanna we have guests."

She ignored it further. It wasn't real. None of it was. The sooner she believed it was, the sooner she would start to accept her life here, and that wasn't an option. She was going to make it back out and to her real world, to her real family, to her real life.

"I'm so sorry," the nurse spoke, "Zatanna's been here for a while now and she's never talked to anyone properly. If you leave her alone she'll leave you alone, but I think she'll like hearing about your adventures."

The Graysons. The Flying Graysons, to be exact. The hospital had been talking about it for weeks now; a famous world class act was coming to volunteer at the hospital. No one would have thought. Yet here they were, in their ward. They call it the children's psych ward, but she was fourteen. Soon when she turned sixteen they would hand her over to the nearest psych ward that took adults in: Arkham Asylum.

She had heard terrible things about the place; some of the nurses who had to take the leavers to the institution had called it a living hell. Not only was it home to psychotics, but it was home to the worst criminals that Gotham has ever hosted. She never wanted to leave this place if it meant the Asylum, she would dig through the ground to China with her bare hands before she even thought it a good idea for her to go.

"That's nice to know," a new voice said, "I think Dick would love to talk to her, she seems about his age and he doesn't really get to socialize that much with our schedule."

A female's voice. Must be the parent of the three that were coming to help. Mary Grayson. They had been schooled about the history of Haly's Circus, everything from troupes to accidents to deaths. She knew that only three of them would be coming to see, not the full six. Mary, John, and Dick Grayson. Who happened to be the youngest acrobat in the world that had performed their legendary finishing act.

"Of course, so if you would like to start by talking with the children, just with quiet voices, then at twelve a nurse will come up with lunch." The nurse left, leaving the Graysons to decide who to talk to and what to do first. They stood around discussing times and sections; well the parents did anyway- Dick just turned his attention to the girl sitting by the window looking out.

Zatanna, the nurse said her name was, looked… at a lack of a better word, small. She looked haunted, her hair was not a piece out of place, her legs weren't bent at weird angles and he had never met her before in his life.

So why did he feel like he knew her.

Maybe they visited a show, or she was on TV when she was put in here, or they had been out and he had seen her in passing. Then as if something was pushing in his mind, he fell. Collapsed in a heap on the floor clutching his head.

_Te… daugh… Zatanna… Robi… joini… experie…_

A memory flashed through his mind, broken like the old radio they kept in their trailer. There was a man, dressed nicely and others around him dressed in costumes, and Zatanna. He could recognise her; the only difference was that she looked healthier.

With the happenings in his head he could barely notice the nurses and his parents rushing to his aid. The loud ringing in his ears leaving little attention for anything else. He was still trying to understand what had happened, was it a memory, or a figment of his imagination?

"Dick!"

"Dick, can you hear me?"

"Is he okay?"

"Do we need to call up a doctor?"

He was still on his side, clutching his ears while this was going on. The younger, more innocent patients going to see if he was all right. Zatanna turned her head slightly, wanting to see what was part of the commotion. She saw a crowd and a small boy, around her height, maybe taller than her by a smidge, on the ground clutching his ears, his eyes screwed tightly shut, and his mouth in a pained grimace.

She cocked her head slightly and blinked. It had to be painful if he was on the ground like that. She reached out to him, her hand stretching out without her consent as if to touch him. Of course she was too far away to actually lay a finger on him, but she could feel it. He was different. He was real.

Then it dawned on her, he was real.

She wasn't alone anymore.

She had found someone that knew.

He knew.

Or did he?

This person had a family, he had a life, an adventure of one, he had people that loved him.

What if he didn't know?

* * *

><p>They walked back to the field where the trailers were stopped at. Trudging through the thick snow in their boots, hands stuffed into pockets and beanies atop their heads. They aura surrounding them couldn't be better, they were buzzing. The children at the ward were all cheerful and positive, with the odd one being a bit under the weather and raining on the parade for everyone else.<p>

Mary had entertained some of the tamer kids with basic contortionism, John had been dealing with the more high-level security ones, and Dick had stuck to the patients that were around his age. Which were only a few of them (three) plus the one that wouldn't talk.

Zatanna was a complete enigma to him, she watched, and watched and watched. Not once did she make a move to talk to him, or to get included into their activities. But he knew her. He could feel it. Even when he looked someplace else her presence was still stronger.

Why was that?

The vision came back to him; it had been broken, like a mirror. The pieces were there but all cracked to make an unrecognizable plane. He had confirmed quietly to himself that the one proper word he had made out of it was Zatanna, so he must have known her. He must have.

"How did you find the kids, Dick?" John asked, pulling his son into his side, so he had his wife on his right and his son on his left. The boy laughed when he was suddenly glued to the man's side and rolled his eyes mockingly.

"Really cool, although there was that one girl that wouldn't talk or join in, that Zatanna girl. Have we seen her before?" He said, looking to his parents, who only looked at each other in confusion and shook their heads. "I feel like I know her, or have seen her before. It's weird."

"Are you sure it's not just a crush?" Mary smiled after a lengthy pause. Only to be followed by Dick's look of absolute horror and shock. John laughed whole-heartedly and kissed both of them on their heads. "It's only natural, she is very beautiful."

"Mum!" He whined in embarrassment, glad that his cheeks were already pink form the cool air, "really?"

"Hey now," John smiled, "you did look quite comfortable around her. It wouldn't hurt just admitting you like her, just a little bit."

"I can't believe you two, I swear you are so not wh-"

He never finished the sentence, because at that moment a taller figure came around the corner and crashed into him, sending them into the snow. Dick tried to get up, but another wave of pain flowed through his brain and sent him back down to the cushion of snow.

_Niec… traught… spellin… or not… _

He breathed in and out loudly, trying to get the pain to subside. But he wasn't the only one suffering this time. The taller and more curvaceous figure that had slammed into him earlier was on the ground a few meters away from them, screaming in pain. Clutching her head and grinding her teeth together the onslaught of sounds and pictures drowned her conscience out.

_Artemi… get dead… D… R… A… G…_

A buzzing noise was still present, like a swarm of angry bees were surrounding her in a inescapable circle of annoyance and pissed off-ness. She let go of her ears, deciding to roll with it and just go.

"Are you okay, madam?" A voice came in. The brain attacks had stopped, but her training was starting to kick in. She couldn't trust anybody, not her dad, her sister and not these randoms. Scurrying away from them she ran the direction she was heading towards first.

Gasping for breath and leaning on the building slightly, she stopped. What the hell did she just see? And why the hell did it involve her in a green costume?

It had happened when she bumped into that scrawny kid, maybe he was really sick or something and had passed an instant bug onto her. Okay… maybe not. But she swore that he looked familiar. It was the hair, or the structure of the face. It was a mystery to her, and unlike Jade, she hated mystery. It was so unnecessary in life. She would just rather people get to the point, not babbling around like a buffoon.

She let out a heavy sigh and stood up on her two feet again. Continuing down the alley she had turned into she found her footing on the rusted steel ladder that gave her a short cut up into her room. A swift climb later she entered her room, only to be greeted by her angry mother, who was wheelchair bound after a steal gone wrong.

"Where have you been?" Paula Crock said, her slight Vietnamese accents still very present. "I was worried sick, you could have gotten hurt out there, don't run off like that."

"Geez, mum." Artemis smiled, taking her coat off and placing it on her bed, "I just went out for a walk, nothing happened." She _really _needed to work on her lying skills. Paula knew, she knew, the wall probably knew, that was a total lie.

"If you got into another fight with those street kids in Crime Alley again," the mother said warningly, remembering Artemis coming home with bruises and blood that wasn't hers on her clothes.

"Mum I didn't, I just had to think. It's been a year since…"

Paula cut her off with a soft voice, "I know. You don't need to say it. If you want a snack just come out into the kitchen, there's chicken soup on the bench." She wheeled herself out, leaving Artemis to feel guilty about what she had done. Sometimes she really beat herself up for being such a stubborn daughter.

Ever since her mum had been released from prison and her father had left she had found herself becoming more and more restless. It was like she needed to do something bad to get attention, like she needed to go out and worry her mother to death, just to return at two in the morning with no explanation. She had tried to be the best daughter that she could be when her mum came back, but Artemis really had no idea how hard it was to switch from training vigorously with her dad to shutting that sort of life out with her mum (who wanted nothing to do with it).

She didn't deserve that chicken soup. She was a horrible person and a horrible daughter. But her stomach was literally growling at her to put something in it. She hadn't eaten something since twenty-four hours ago, when she first left, and had a small loaf of bread. Giving up the battle she was holding for herself she trudged out quietly, not to wake her mum from her sleep, to the kitchen. Making a beeline for the chicken soup that was still, thankfully, warm on the bench she nearly tripped on the newspaper that was thrown on the floor.

Leaving it alone and mumbling a string of curses under her breath she continued to the soup, downing it quickly and washing the plate in the sink with haste and lack of concern. She walked to pick up the newspaper she had dropped and read the title of the page it was on.

SWIMMING RECORDS SHATTERED AGAIN

* * *

><p><em>Atlantis… Aqual… Cadmu… leader…<em>

Kaldur awoke with a sudden jerk. Sweat beading down his forehead and his chest rising and falling rapidly from the disconcerting dream he had just envisioned. It was nothing short of confusing. He had been getting the same dream over and over again for the past few nights. His adoptive parents had noticed it as well, he wasn't sleeping that well, his appetite had gone down, and he was going to the pool for trainings only now. Things had changed so much, and he didn't know why. But he knew that it worried his family, so he tried to hide things from them.

He travelled to the pool out of trainings time, just sitting and watching the water rippled with every stroke the swimmers made. But to his eyes the water formed into a portal view of a city he had been acquainted with during his dreams. Atlantis. Like the legends he had been fascinated about since he began treading the water.

It had been something of a hobby for him, reading about historic accounts of the apparent existence of the lost city of Atlantis. Then it had spanned onto the legends of mermaids, humans that could swim for days without surfacing for air, and maybe he wished he could live in their world. Be one with the water, never leave his home; never have to face the uncomfortableness of walking around in the street with people openly staring at him.

A knock brought him out of his daydream. "Kaldur," Mera's voice was muffled through the door, "breakfast is ready. I think Arthur has something planned for you today." He gave back a quickly reply before getting out of his bed and getting changed.

"Morning." He smiled, grabbing a piece of toast from the plate and taking a bite out of the crisp bread. "I trust you slept well last night." Arthur and Mera sat at the table and shared worried glances. They turned back to Kaldur who was now seated at the bench on a stall.

"You shouldn't have to ask us that, we should be asking you. Kaldur we know you've had trouble sleeping these past few days. If you need to talk to us _please_ do." Arthur said, softly while still holding an authoritive tone in the plead. Kaldur looked away for a second, his brows knitted together and his mouth in a tight line.

"They are just dreams. I do not have any idea why they are keeping me awake." Kaldur said truthfully, "But they feel more real than any other dreams or nightmares I have had. They feel like memories." He looked down and slowly finished his toast. The small family sat in silence for a while, just basking in the presence of one another. Before Mera got up and went to wrap her arms around Kaldur, a gesture of a true mother.

"You should have told us." She whispered, "We were so worried it was something darker, that someone was hurting you." Kaldur hugged her back, sending Arthur look assuredness and gratitude, his father smiled back.

"I'm sorry." He whispered, relaxing his muscles and sighing. The past few days have been tension filled between the three of them. Kaldur had tried to disguise the weariness and convince them that he was fine. But like any caring parents they could see the warning signs blearing on top of his head with big bold lights and flashing letters.

They suddenly remembered when he first fell into their care. A four-year-old Kaldur, with eyes as bright as the moon and hair that was far fairer than Sleeping Beauty's ever could have been. He had been to many foster homes and had guessed that this wouldn't be any different. Little did he know that they were looking to adopt, unlike the other homes he had been to, and keep him until he was old enough to fend for himself in the world that they lived in.

He had no idea for the first month living with them, but as time flew by he began to suspect that this family were different from the rest. When he finally had the curiosity to ask them they smiled and he knew instantly that he was here to stay. He decided that yes, he really loved Mera and Arthur. Although he wouldn't call them mum or dad, for personal reasons, but he would think of them like that. They were what he called a perfect family.

Without a word being spoken between them they returned back to normal positions and started eating breakfast again. Watching the television, and Kat Grant report live from Central City as another cat was saved out of a tree by the firefighters. Nothing really happened in the news, unless something big happened (most likely in Gotham).

"Are you ready for next weeks nationals?" Arthur said, smiling at Kaldur over his cup of coffee. "Isn't it being held in Gotham this year?" Kaldur nodded, knowing that they would be worried for him. After all, it was supposed to be quite long this year due to security measures and event times.

"It is, for a month." Kaldur said, "The team is heading over at the end of the week."

"Are you ready?" Mera asked, noticing the small glint of excitement in his eyes.

"Yes."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: HEY! So I did mean to update this a lot earlier but it's our school holidays right now and my relatives decided it would be great just to pop in a nd hang out for a few days, so I've been crammed with playing tour guide.**

**I just want to say thanks to all the people that read, favourited, followed and reviewed the prologues and sorry I kind of did it in 2 bits, it kind of makes it really weird from now on, with the formatting of the site and all...**

**Anyway... thanks again and if you couldn't tell I actually had a lot of trouble writing this chapter, and I'm not that happy with it. But I don't want to put it off for a month just so I can get one chapter right. **

**Please review and tell me what you think and things I can improve on!**

**-The Missing X**


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